First Sight
by Artemisdesari
Summary: Scott Tracy doesn't believe in love at first sight, but that doesn't mean that lightening never strikes.


_I had a free day and this started out as another take on Scott's thoughts on love a relationships in a similar vein to Call Girl. Then it became something else, which became something else again and by the time I was done it was nothing like the original thought I'd had. Strange how that happens. Marked complete because I have no idea if I want to continue it so I'll let everyone else encourage or discourage as they choose. Please do remember that I'm due another baby in four weeks so my head is a little all over the place and I don't have a beta reader on this one so anything odd is all the epicness of baby brain._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _Nope, I play but I don't own. Pity but what's a girl to do?_

First Sight

Scott Tracy does not believe in love at first sight. He has _been_ in love, has felt loved, has experienced that desire to spend every waking moment with that one person. He has never felt the pain of rejected love or lost love because he has never allowed it to get that far. He saw what all consuming love did to his father, the agony that the death of his mother caused, and Scott cannot go through that. It is bad enough feeling his heart leap into his throat each time one of his brothers is in danger, the sharp terror he experienced when Gordon nearly died in the hydrofoil accident, without the worry of a girlfriend, wife or children. He decided that day in the hospital, the day that he said goodbye to his mother and watched his father collapse with grief, that no one save his family would ever be allowed that deeply into his heart again.

Besides, the love that he felt for those women of his youth, the high school sweetheart and all the girls after her, has always seemed weak and flimsy in comparison to the love that his parents shared. The love that tore his father apart. Now, with International Rescue, a relationship would be even more ill advised than it felt when he was in the Air Force.

So when the bottom drops out of his stomach, his heart falters and his eyes cannot be torn away it takes him by complete surprise. Especially since he is supposed to be rescuing her. Time is utterly essential, the flames of the burning multi-storey are only two floors below them, but his lungs will not work. His entire body is numb and it is like there is a bell ringing in his mind telling him that this is the one, the one that he has avoided with such success for so long, the one who will make all of the dreams that he will never admit to having come true.

"You know anything about delivering babies?" She demands, as though she has not realised that the sight of her has paralysed him. Her words jolt him out of his stupor and he finally looks at the other woman present. Her stomach is distended, her face coated in sweat and dirt, red in the light of his torch and he can see that she is panting in the too thin air. Both women are filthy, so coated in soot and ash that Scott suspects they had already tried to escape before the heat and smoke pushed them back up.

"Not as much as I would like," he admits. There is an escape route for them all three floors up. "We need to get out of here," he tells her as he approaches, hearing the crunch of broken glass under his boots. "We're running out of time."

"I'd say time's already up," she replies, her voice rasping with smoke inhalation and she tenses a little as he kneels beside her. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, that's the baby's head." She gestures in between the legs of the labouring woman and it is obvious that he is going to have to deliver this baby before he can get them out of here.

"You don't need to stay," he tells her softly as he begins to remove his gloves, "there's a recovery platform three floors up. I can contact my colleagues and let them know what's going on here, they'll be waiting for you."

"I don't think so," she shakes her head and glances at his shaking hands. It is taking too long to get the heat proof gloves off and at this rate the baby will be here. He can admit that he is nervous, however, Virgil has done this once but Scott has only had the most basic of training. "I'm sure your hands are cleaner under those gloves, but I'm also pretty sure you'll need my help to get her and the baby out."

He glares at her as the gloves come free, taking in her soot streaked skin and parched, full lips. Her almond eyes are so dark that in this light they are almost black and they are full of stubborn defiance that in another circumstance he would allow himself to feel admiration for. Right now, however, it just makes his stomach lurch in that all too familiar way that has no place being related to this woman. He glances down, following the line of her shirt to take note of a silver name tag, although only the first name is visible.

"Amber?" She nods. "If you stay you could die."

"And if I go up those stairs alone I could die anyway," she points out. "I'll take my chances with you, Mr...?"

"Scott," he does not offer his hand to shake although it takes a conscious effort not to. He reaches and grabs several t-shirts from a display, taking them from the middle where they might be the cleanest, and rips off the tags. They will need something to wrap the baby in once it is born.

"And I'm Marianne," the other woman growls. "So glad we all know each other but if we're done I could use a little help. This baby isn't going to wait for us."

"Alright," Scott speaks brusquely, not willing to admit that Amber has discomposed him so much that he has been ignoring the primary casualty in the room. "I take it you've done this before?"

"This is number five," Marianne replies. "Get ready to catch one of you," she warns and Scott manages to drape one of the cleanest t-shirts over Amber's hands as the baby slides out in a gush of fluids.

"Ideally I'd like to give you a minute," Scott tells the older of the two women, impressed with the way that both have kept their heads in this difficult situation. He turns to the younger who is busily wrapping the baby in a number of the t-shirts. "Amber?" When she answers with the softest whisper of his name it is all that he can do to keep a hold on his composure as his breath catches at the way she seems to caress it. "I'm going to carry Marianne out, once she's in my arms pass her the baby and stay close to me."

Amber nods, compliant now that her immediate focus has shifted and the reality of the danger that she is actually in has begun to sink in. She has already proven to be calm under pressure once and he sincerely hopes that will continue. Marianne, however, groans softly when he picks her up and he cannot help but notice that she is floppy in his arms. Amber presses the baby, a boy, into his mother's chest and hurries along next to him as they weave their way through clothing displays to reach the emergency stair well.

"Keep as low as you can," he orders. The smoke is thicker now and the heat is fierce. Even the fire doors on each floor have been unable to keep the flames from this area. There is no way down, the heat will be too intense, there is only up and that is if the smoke does not get them. Fortunately Amber follows all of his instructions without question, trusting that he knows what he is doing and that is a really good thing right now because he cannot afford to worry about her when he mind is half on Marianne. The woman is losing more blood than he would like, not that he wants to admit it to Amber, and he knows that he should stop to check her except that he already knows that she is unlikely to make it out alive. Instead he alerts Virgil to the fact that he has a critically ill woman on the way. Virgil responds by telling him that Gordon and John are already clear and that John has gone to man Mobile Control, abandoned when they realised that the extra pair of hands would be needed. John radios in to tell him that an air ambulance is on its way and patches him through so that he can update the crew.

The only time that Amber hesitates is when she sees how high off the ground the rescue platform actually is. Gordon is there, red hair dark with sweat and plastered against his skull even in the breeze. He smiles at her, takes her hand to help her over and Scott feels an unmistakable twinge of pure jealousy that his little brother has touched this woman that he barely knows. The concern in honey eyes when he takes Marianne from his brother tells Scott that the situation looks as bad as he had feared.

"Will she be alright?" Amber asks, glancing at Marianne. The compassion in her eyes for this stranger is warming but it is gone in a moment as she begins to cough, a harsh and tearing sound. The platform is already moving, although not up into the great hulk of Thunderbird Two. Apparently Virgil has decided to dispense with bringing them inside and has decided to simply deposit them beside the air ambulance. Scott can chew him out for ignoring protocol later; right now he knows that they do not have a lot of time to save this woman, if she can be saved at all.

"I don't know," Scott admits, yanking his helmet off and taking a deep breath of cool, if a little bit smoky, outside air. He does not like the sound of her cough and he turns to look at her, letting her see his face for the first time. Their eyes meet, her breathing seems to stop for a moment and her lips form his name. Then the coughing starts again and his concern becomes her ability to breathe rather than the way that she seemed just as affected by him as he has been by her. He places an oxygen mask from the side of the platform over her mouth and tells her to breathe in a soft tone that he only ever seems to use with a member of his family. She follows his instructions, her dark eyes coming up to meet his blue ones and they lock, seemingly unable to look away from one another for the apparent eternity that it takes for Virgil to get them to the air ambulance. It is only the gentle bump of the platform on the tarmac that jolts Scott from this odd connection and he can only watch as the paramedics take both Marianne and Amber away to be treated. Her face is streaked with blood and soot and sweat and the image lingers with him even as he begins to clear away the used mask. It is only when Gordon touches his shoulder that reality truly returns.

"Any of that yours?" Gordon asks, gesturing to the blood that has soaked down one side of him.

"No," he assures his brother with a brief touch to the hand still on his shoulder. Then he turns back to the work of clearing up and getting the fire put out now that the department store has been fully evacuated.

He does not think of her again until later that night, when his exhausted body collapses into bed and he is alone to contemplate the events of the day. Even though he is tired from the rescue, so much so that he almost could not manage his dinner without falling asleep in it, his mind refuses to let him sleep in the dark sanctuary of his room. Instead it forces him to relive each moment, each expression and word, with Amber. He remembers the heart shape of her face and is certain that even under all of the dirt and blood she would have been very pretty, striking if her eyes were anything to go by. For some unfathomable reason she had left him unable to function properly, fascinating him for no reason other than the fact that he had seen her, and he cannot understand it. He knows nothing about her and yet he wants to know everything.

"It's been too long since you've had some shore leave," he tells himself then punches his pillow into a more comfortable shape and drifts into a restless and dissatisfying sleep.

TB

"This is ridiculous," Virgil hears his brother hiss as they do some routine maintenance on the Mole and its pod. It is nearly a week after the rescue, a blissfully quiet week at that, and he has noticed that his older brother has not been himself. Scott is distracted and Virgil has had to tell him more than once this afternoon to get his head back in the game.

"What is?" He asks, coming to stand beside his blue eyed brother with two bottles of water and a rag in his hands. Truthfully he had not need his brother's help with this, but if they are in with the Mole Gordon, and therefore Alan by default whether in space or not, will not be anywhere in the vicinity.

"Nothing," Scott snaps, taking the rag with an expression of gratitude that seems lacking in light of his bad mood and proceeding to wipe his hands clean enough to take the water.

"You might as well tell me," Virgil replies. "You've been up in space since that last rescue. We've _all_ noticed, Dad included. Is it the woman who haemorrhaged? You do know that there's nothing that you could have done? Without being in a hospital she was dead as soon as that baby decided to make an appearance. At least he survived."

"I know," Scott says softly and Virgil believes him. John might have been more upset about the situation, the middle Tracy is the more sensitive of the family and he certainly hasn't covered the number of rescues that his older siblings have, but Scott has seen death and while he will always ask himself _what if_ it is never for that long. "We had no choice but to wait for the birth and even if we had stopped there was nothing that I could have done to stabilise her."

"So what is it?" He presses. "Dad's going to start asking questions pretty soon so you may as well tell me before you get called into the office."

"You ever meet someone that you can't get out of your head?" Scott asks after a moment of silence.

"When did you grow overies?" Virgil responds without thinking.

"Forget it," Scott snaps.

"Hey, come on," he reaches a placating hand out. "No more wise cracks, I promise. What's going on with you?"

"This girl," it only takes a moment of hesitation which means that this is getting to Scott more than he wants to admit. "From the rescue last week."

" _Not_ the one who..." Virgil clarifies because _that_ would cause a whole heap of trouble.

"No," Scott shakes his head with a brief scowl. "The woman with her, who worked in the store, Amber." Not so good. The fact that Scott remembers her name is unusual but not unexpected, she must have made an impression after all. The fact that he is still dwelling on her, however, is both out of character for Scott and potentially dangerous.

"What's so special about her?" Virgil asks, trying to understand and watching Scott as he paces in agitation.

"I don't know," he hisses, which explains a lot. Scott _hates_ not knowing, especially when he is directly involved. It can be hard enough staying neutral where International Rescue is concerned, let alone when it is his own head presenting the mystery.

"You want to find out?" Virgil asks and see his brother's shoulders slump, an affirmation that he really wishes he had not seen. "You know you can't."

"Of course I do," the pacing resumes, "and it's driving me nuts."

"Did something happen between you?" Virgil asks urgently, the last thing they need is for Scott to have had a truly monumental lapse in judgement and start thinking with the _wrong_ head. "Aside from the epic eye sex Gordon was telling us about." The journey back had been hilarious as Gordon did impressions of Scott's expressions, he should have known that there would be some sort of fall out.

"Eye sex?" Scott pauses and looks at him quizzically.

"That's what he called it," Virgil shrugs.

"No," Scott runs his fingers through his hair, "nothing happened."

"I think you need some time off," Virgil tells him after a moment of thought. "Tell Dad you're tired and you need some shore leave. Play golf, drink too much and clear your head. Forget about the girl."

"You're right," Scott agrees. They have been hard pushed lately, whether with rescue on top of rescue or trying to keep up with basic maintenance tasks that get shunted to one side because they need to eat and sleep between rescues before they do anything else. They are all feeling it, but of them all it has been the longest since Scott took any time for himself and Virgil thinks it is long past time. "Thanks, Virg."

"Don't mention it. I've got a reputation to maintain."

He watches his brother depart but it is not with the sense of ease that he had hoped for after working out the root cause of Scott's distraction. He should be relieved that it was little more than Scott getting his head turned by a girl, it has been a long time coming and it is good to see that his brother is as susceptible to lure of the fairer sex as the rest of them are. So why is it that instead of relief he has this horrible sense that a lot of things are about to go horribly wrong?

 _So, yeah, it probably needs a greater story. Or could tie into Call Girl now that I think about it, but there you have it._

 _Artemis_


End file.
